Slightly Tilted: It’s the BIG one!

I’m turning 40 next month. It’s not really a big deal. You know, for those 5 minutes a day that I don’t think about it.

Last week I went to the doctor because I was hurting everywhere. I mean, everywhere. It turns out I had tennis elbow in both arms and a pinched nerve in my back that made my right leg feel like it was on fire.

I walked in a 39-year-old woman with an achy body and walked out feeling 90 years old with a new medical vocabulary.

How did this happen to me?! I don’t even play tennis! I don’t deserve to be falling apart with medical injuries named after a sport in which I don’t participate! That’s just not right.

I feel 18 on the inside, but my body is constantly reminding me I’m not all that and a bag of chips anymore. (Did I just date myself even more by saying “all that and a bag of chips”?! Jeez!!) I’m like a musical instrument when I walk — snapping ankles, creaking knees, and a bunch of sighing.

And I work out! I exercise daily! I stretch! I eat right! It’s frustrating.

When I was younger — like yesterday — Botox seemed crazy to me. Inject yourself with a known poison just to make wrinkles go away? No way!

Now, it’s like…what’s the recovery time? Can I put it in that crease between my butt and thighs to lift my booty? Just how much can I use before it’s considered a “lethal dose”?

I mean…I haven’t used it yet, but it’s worth a little research, right?

I asked my mom just the other day at what age you feel like a responsible, fully-grown adult whose body matches the way you feel on the inside. She said she didn’t know yet.

I love that answer. I’ll always be 18 on the inside, even if I don’t look that way to the rest of the world and my body is crumbling around me. So cheers to all you youngins’ trapped in a body that won’t fully cooperate anymore! Put on your dancing shoes today and throw back the Advil tomorrow.